


campus noise and pretty boys

by Lindsflea



Series: discord writing challenges! <3 [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, College, First Meetings, Fluff, Flustered GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Meet-Cute, Strangers to Lovers, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, this was for a competiton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:06:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29249994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lindsflea/pseuds/Lindsflea
Summary: PROMPT: new pupil! a and tourgiver! bORgeorge, top of his class at the admirable yale university, is often reserved and well loved by the teachers. it’s no wonder the university faculty chose him to show the new (and totally not attractive) student around campus.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: discord writing challenges! <3 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2184813
Comments: 16
Kudos: 215





	campus noise and pretty boys

**Author's Note:**

> hello there! this is once again for a discord server prompt competition. i hope you enjoy :]
> 
> reminder if the cc's ever express discomfort about fanfiction, this will be taken down. respect their boundaries!

Not very many people are unfamiliar with George Davidson of the University of Yale. 

As a British immigrant who somehow managed to scramble his way upwards through the ACT and SAT scores in under the span of a few months, it sure takes many by surprise on how he is now at the head of his class in a knit-tight community and top tier university in America.

Even after almost six years of attending Yale and aiming for his Masters degree, the brunet keeps to himself most of the time and hasn’t met anyone who he would deem a close friend (besides Sapnap, but only because the raven haired man wouldn’t stop bothering him until he went to go see a movie with a group of his friends. George hated it, but still sticks with Sapnap to this day). 

Teachers and faculty absolutely adore the blatantly reserved yet intelligent Brit. It doesn’t take keen eyesight to notice that whenever the professors need extra paperwork from the copy machine or a sharp minded student to tutor someone who has fallen behind, George is normally the first they ask for assistance.

So that’s probably why George finds himself outside of the entrance to the dorms, preparing to give a tour around campus to another new student for the umpteenth time this semester.

George isn’t too sure what to expect when the young adult rounds the corner and starts walking in his direction. Normally, the people he leads around the school and talks mindless nonsense to about the history and whatnot of it barely bat an eye at him and leave with no more than curt  _ thanks  _ and a silent declaration that the two will never speak again.

But when the blond man gets closer and he pauses his movements to wave a frantic  _ hello!  _ to George, beaming smile on show, George can’t help but hope this encounter may be a little different than the last few.

And then he gets closer and  _ oh god, he’s pretty _ . 

Strands of golden blond and brown highlighted hair blow around haphazardly in the wind. Plethoras of freckles scattered randomly across his tanned face. Sharp yellow- no  _ green _ \- eyes filled with mirth gazing down at him and  _ oh yeah he’s tall too _ . Pearly white and toothy smile  _ still  _ cascading through his facial features and setting every single one of George’s nerves alight.

_ Yeah, he’s never felt like this before. _

“Hello!” the stranger greets. “I’m Clay, but you can call me Dream.”

“Dream?” George questions despite himself. He internally winces at how distraught his voice sounds. Dream’s eyes widen.

“You’re  _ British!”  _ he incredulously exclaims, ignoring the Brit’s previous questioning. George suppresses the urge to roll his eyes, because  _ of course  _ that’s the first thing he says. 

George nods, still experiencing the after effects of practically ogling Dream the moment he laid his eyes on him, despite the fact that he’s a complete stranger. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to form any coherent words or syllables, despite  _ Dream _ because  _ oh ma _ n the way his name flew out of his mouth so easily, pronunciation on point and accenting the letters so smoothly. 

Stuck inside his own thoughts for a while too long, George doesn’t even realise when Dream steps over and taps him on the shoulder.

George risks a glance up, and  _ shit  _ he’s a lot more gorgeous up close. “Yeah?” he croaks out.

Dream smiles again, most likely internally making fun of how  _ stupid  _ George is acting. “You haven’t told me your name.”

George internally facepalms, because how could he forget something like that? “George,” he meagerly responds.

Dream looks triumphant as he backs out of George’s personal space bubble(George almost wishes he didn’t). 

“So,  _ George _ ,” Dream starts, and George thinks he would die a hundred times over if he got to hear his name come out of the blond’s mouth again, “shall we get going with the tour?”

George nods again and beckons for Dream to follow him with a flick of his hand, thankful for the actual reasoning of their meetup to distract him from the fact that  _ oh my god he’s so fucking handsome _ .

Dream follows, and if there’s a excited skip in his step as he trails George like a dog, no one notices.

~

The tour starts off well, at first. 

George leads the pair around the dorms and a few lecture halls, offhandedly commenting every now and then on random facts about the universities and myths and rumors that are either entirely false or unbelievingly true. Luckily, his voice came back after a few moments of completely processing the boy in front of him. Dream seems to hang on every single one of his words like they’re his lifeline, and George isn’t entirely sure how to feel about that.

They cross a street together, rushing through the crosswalk just as the stoplight turns green and cars zoom past, barely making it to the other side. The heels of their shoes step in a few stray puddles from the rain last night and send sprinkles of water damping their clothes. George lets out a little breathy giggle from the exhilaration. 

“That was close!” Dream exclaims in the midst of his wheezy laughter. George nods feverishly, grinning despite himself.

Suddenly, Dream’s entire demeanor changes. His face turns stoic and he locks his eyes so that he’s staring directly at George. George gulps in apprehension, and internally curses himself for feeling how hot his cheeks start to turn.

Deadpanning, Dream remarks, “You’re wet, George.”

George splutters, similar to a steamboat starting its engine, and his face blossoms into a plethora of pretty shades of peach pink and tomato red. Dream’s previous emotionless facade dissipates as he returns back to coughing his lungs up in boisterous guffaws.

“The look on your  _ face _ !” Dream teases in between his tea kettle hissing. George didn’t think he could get any redder, but he does.

“You blush so  _ easily  _ too!” George makes a show of rolling his eyes and turns around away from the taller, trying to calm the racing of his heart and the heat trailing up to his ears now.

“ _ Shut up _ ,” he murmurs, exasperated, and winces at how squeaky and wavering his voice sounds, “l-let’s just continue the tour yeah?” And  _ stuttering  _ too. He is the definition of a hot mess right about now.

Dream’s wheezes eventually subside into a dull thum. As George heads off in a steadfast pace, the blond starts trailing yet again. “Whatever you say, Georgie,” he replies, a smile evident in his voice.

~

The teasing and flustering only gets worse from there.

George doesn’t exactly hate it, per say. Admittedly, he feels mortified every time the slightest flirtatious or suggestive comment is directed to him, but his reactions are normally priceless. And the way Dream looks at him, face lit up and unfiltered adoration blazing in his eyes, he guesses he can power through a few more lighthearted quips if it means Dream looks like _that_ at him every time. 

The touring part, on the other hand, goes by swimmingly. The two knock out the majority of the important campus buildings in just under half an hour, much to George’s delight. 

They’re just nearing the last building on George’s list, the creative writing lecture hall, as Dream speaks up again.

“Tell me about yourself.”

Unprepared, George tilts his head to look at Dream, confused, and mutters “what?”

Dream smiles back, and that alone almost makes George blush again.  _ Almost.  _ “You’re giving me a tour of the campus, yeah? It’d be cool to know who exactly is leading me around this unfamiliar territory.”

George pauses his movements and turns to fully face Dream. “I’m George, 24, and from England.”

Dream chuckles. “You know that’s not what I meant. You already told me all  _ that! _ ”

George looks at him quizzically. “Then what do you want to know?”

Dream shrugs. “I dunno. Favorite color? Pets? Fun facts, I guess.”

And because no one has taken an interest towards George in a good number of years, especially someone this  _ pretty _ , and because George is absolutely infatuated with this guy, a guy he just met, no less, he talks.

And practically tells him everything.

George rambles about anything and everything that comes to his mind, speaking through his British accent and practically crushing Dream in the rocky rumble that could be considered his backstory, at the very least. He tells him that his favorite color is blue, and it would probably be different if not for his colorblindness. He tells him why he moved to America and how he somehow managed to work his way up to one of the best colleges in the country. He talks about Cat, his kitten back in his dorm room most likely meowing his head off to be fed despite being fed just mere hours ago. Rather lamely, he talks about Sapnap; how  _ annoying  _ he can be at times and because of that, how Dream and Sapnap would most definitely hit it off(this awards him a  _ hey!  _ in protest). He also discusses his major and what he’s planning on pursuing after college.

Yeah, George talked a lot. But Dream offered just as much in his conversation, practically answering everything George had talked about. In hindsight, they’re actually pretty similar. Same interests, same major(albeit Dream is three years behind), hell, they both even have a cat. 

Not only was Dream absolutely breathtaking appearance wise, he was also riveting in personality and hobbies, leaving George fully engrossed in the conversation and listening to him with wide eyes and open ears. 

In between an on and off conversation about coffee and why it always tastes so bitter, the pair belatedly realise that they passed up the final lecture hall a few blocks back.

“ _ Shit, _ ” George mumbles, and knits his eyebrows together in irritation, “we totally missed our street minutes ago!” 

Dream laughs dryly, and George distantly wonders why it sounds so bitter. “Right, haha. The tour. We got so caught up in talking to each other, huh?”

George shares a glance with the blond, and they smile softly at each other. Something warm pools in the hearth of the brunet’s ribcage and palpates inside his abdomen before settling inside of his calming heart. He adores the feeling of  _ elation _ , and locks it inside of his head for another time as he rests his mind and settles his gaze more sharply at the man in front of him, eyes swimming with something unrecognisible. “I guess we did.”

~

  
The tour ends abruptly once they finally manage to traverse through the never ending corridors of the final lecture hall.

Exiting the building, George breathes in a huff of fresh air in relief. He notes that Dream does the same beside him.

“I don’t even know why I decided to minor in writing,” Dream comments, “I haven’t written anything fictional in ages.” 

“Sounds like a you problem,” George teasingly chides, because  _ yeah _ , over the past hour they have gotten so used to each other the brunet feels like he’s known the younger for years, however cheesy that may sound.

Dream wheezes yet again, and immediately sobers up. George turns his head to face him, confused.

“I guess this is it, yeah?” Dream asks, but it sounds more like a rhetorical question than anything. 

George’s heart drops to his feet, and he nods.

Dream looks like he is strained as he speaks next. “Yeah. Uhm, thanks for showing me around. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” George replies. He risks a glance up and Dream’s eyes are  _ right on him _ , cascades of forest green determination pooling into confused orbs of blue and brown. George’s heartbeat accelerates and his breathing stutters as the interaction becomes  _ too much _ . 

He risks a shy wave goodbye, fingers fluttering through the air like the wings of a butterfly, and turns on his heel to head back to his dorm. His heart remains at the bottom of his feet, crying for some sort of release or closure that  _ this is not the end, this is not the end, you’ll see him again.  _ George ignores it.

Some people believe in soulmates, fate, whatever you want to call it. Where you meet a certain person and just instantaneously  _ click  _ with them. Where you can talk to them for hours on end and it only feels like minutes. Where the moment you see them, it turns your entire life upside down for the better. Most people deem it to be childish thinking or farfetched, at the very least. 

But there’s a time where you  _ know  _ you met the perfect person. Someone to stick with at the ends of the Earth and until time slows and stills into a meaningless tick of a mechanical clock. You cannot give fate up for the world, and even if you try, it will always come back to bite you in the ass time and time again. Fate is entirely relentless, brutal, and  _ giving _ . 

So just as he is about to walk away, there is a light tug on the end of his hood. He spins around to be greeted by Dream, eyes darting in every direction but George and cheeks tinted with a shade of bubblegum pink. His grip on George’s clothing falters and he lets go, giving George every possible chance to shrug the strange encounter off and leave.

George stays.

“Hey,” Dream starts, and  _ why does he seem so nervous _ ? Throughout this entire ordeal, he was pestering and flustering George every chance he got.

“I was wondering if you- err… wanted to, perhaps grab a coffee with me sometime?” He speaks the last few words in a hushed whisper, ever so slightly shrinking in on himself and the color spreading in a raspberry red around his face and down below by his neck. George stares at him for a moment, dumbstruck, before positively beaming down at the nervous blond in front of him.

“I’d love to,” he responds, joviality evident in his tone and the words laced with pools of soft golden honey. Dream perks up in response, similar to a dog, and smiles; large and toothy and so  _ beautiful  _ that George definitely can’t refuse now, when Dream is staring down at him like he’s the cat that got the cream.

“Hell yeah!” he cheers, and George’s eyes widen as he watches the younger pump his fist in the air a few times. Settling down after an episode of pure giddiness, Dream pulls out a blue ballpoint pen and uncaps it. He then pulls out a few loose strands of paper, the majority plastered with messy class notes, and chooses a clean state to work on, frantically writing something out.

Cheekily smiling and practically shaking with excitement, Dream caps the pen and rips the piece of paper out of the book and hands it over to George.

Without any warning, Dream scampers away, whooping and hollering all the while.

George allows himself to watch the silhouette of the enchanting boy distance itself and eventually disappearing, before glancing down at the page and reading the almost illegible scrawl: a strand of numbers followed by a sweet note.

_ thanks for showing me around today! call me when u get the chance _

_ -dream xoxo _

_ p.s. you’re cute when you blush! you should do it more often :) _

George neatly pockets the note in his hoodie, permanent grin set on his face, and thanks himself and the prospect of fate over and over again for being given the opportunity to show the new student around campus.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> i'm definitely not used to writing these sorts of AUs and it shows lol!
> 
> besides that, i hope you enjoyed! comments & kudos are always appreciated <3
> 
> [writta's block discord server](https://discord.gg/EtJjRm7vxn)
> 
> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/lindsflea)


End file.
